


The Most Ambitious Crossover of All Time

by seaaweedbrain



Category: All For The Game - Nora Sakavic, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, Raven Cycle - Maggie Stiefvater, Red White & Royal Blue - Casey McQuiston
Genre: All for the game/the raven cycle/red white and royal blue, Alternate Universe, Crossover, Crossovers & Fandom Fusions, Gen, Multiple Crossovers, POV Multiple, with some percy jackson sprinkled in there
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-13
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-03 05:07:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,811
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24169330
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seaaweedbrain/pseuds/seaaweedbrain
Summary: When the PSU Foxes are flown to London for a charity event by the Prince of England, the last thing that they expect to happen is for them to befriend a bunch of Ravens.OrInfinity War has got nothing on this.(All For The Game X The Raven Cycle X Red White and Royal Blue X Percy Jackson and the Olympians)this is literally a crack fic so it's bad on purpose
Relationships: Alex Claremont-Diaz/Henry Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor, And some more - Relationship, Annabeth Chase/Percy Jackson, Basically all canon ships from these books, June Claremont-Diaz/Nora Holleran, Neil Josten/Andrew Minyard, Richard Gansey III/Blue Sargent, Ronan Lynch/Adam Parrish
Comments: 38
Kudos: 140





	1. Part One

**Author's Note:**

> This is purely self indulgent, enjoy :)

“That is easily the worst British accent I've ever heard in my life,” Allison says, unplugging one of the tour bus earphones from her ear. “I hate you for subjecting me to that. I hate myself for letting you subject me to that. Do you know that I’ll never be able to unhear that voice? Every time someone in this damned country opens their mouth, I’m going to remember this painful conversation.”

“What do you mean?” Nicky asks. “I think it sounds _lovely._ Hey, what do you think, _love_? I bet you think it sounds _bloody_ good, hey?”

Nicky slides Neil an ear-to-ear grin, presumably waiting for him to agree.

“Yeah, no,” Neil says, as the bus pulls to a stop. “It’s pretty bad.”

Kevin, who'd opted to ignore their conversation throughout the bus ride in favour of listening to the tour guide’s commentary, finally removes the earphones from his ears and glares at Nicky indignantly.

“Just so you know, adding the words “bloody” and “love” to every sentence doesn't make you sound British.”

Nicky pouts, dangling one arm over the railing of the double-decker.

“I think it bloody does, love.”

Kevin grumbles to himself and fumbles with the chords of his earphones.

“My sound isn't working,” he announces. “Does anyone have spare earphones?”

“Here,” Renee says, handing over her pair. “I'm going to go back and check out the church we passed a few minutes ago.” She stands up, sliding in front of Allison to get to the aisle. Nicky scooches past a miffed Aaron to join her.

“Andrew?” Renee asks. While Andrew certainly isn't the religious type, she knows that he’s desperate for a chance to get away from the chitter-chatter of the bus and stretch his legs. Andrew turns his head to Neil for confirmation - they hardly go anywhere without the other, these days - and when Neil nods, he rips the earphones from the jack and tosses them to the floor. Momentarily, she wonders how much of the tour guide’s commentary has already worked its way into Andrew’s eidetic memory. Dan quickly grabs Matt’s hand and pulls him up with her into the aisle. She looks to Allison and jerks their joined hands to point somewhere in front of the bus.

“Matt and I are going to try and find a Starbucks. You in?”

Allison sighs in relief, and wobbles slightly over to them in her heeled boots.

“Let's get off this thing,” she says.

Majority of the foxes stumble over each other to the stairs, leaving just Aaron and Kevin on the London Tour Bus.

“Everyone needs to be back by three for a quick pre-game practice,” Kevin calls out. “This isn't a vacation.”

Nicky blows a raspberry, sticking his hand at Kevin in a thumbs-down. “Whatever, _Dad._ ”

“They're a bunch of celebrities,” Matt says. “Are all these practices really necessary?”

“I don't care,” Kevin says, wind ruffling the quiff of his hair. “Foxes always play their best. Now get off, we’re about to leave for our next stop.”

The foxes walk over each other, each trying to be the first to get off the tour bus. Before he can lose him in the crowd, Andrew firmly grips Neil’s hand and pulls him onto the concrete. Renee and Nicky follow, tugging at their scarves and beanies.

“This country is so _cold_ ,” Renee murmurs, rubbing her arms. Neil shrugs off his coat and offers it to her.

“What about you?” she asks, cold air spiralling from her lips as she speaks. When Neil shrugs, Andrew shoots him a glare.

“You're going to die of hypothermia,” Andrew states. He looks bored, and it’s obvious that he's pretending not to care. Neil rolls his eyes.

“I'm not that cold,” he says.

“You're in a t-shirt.”

“I'm not that cold.”

“You’re not even wearing socks.”

“I _said_ -”

“Here,” Nicky says, pulling off his beanie and tugging it over Neil’s head. “Now his beautiful little brain is protected.”

Andrew snorts, and then they're shouldering their way through the busy London streets. After a few wrong turns and some whining from Nicky (“ _Okay, but now_ my _head is cold_.”), they find the church. Andrew leans against the front of the building and pulls a pack of cigarettes out of his coat pocket.

“You can't smoke outside a church,” Nicky argues.

“You can't smoke inside one, either,” Andrew replies, lighting up. Neil hangs back with Andrew, and Renee and Nicky go inside. The room is really beautiful, with picturesque stained glass windows and brown marble columns. It's only one-thirty on a Tuesday afternoon, so save for them, the space is empty. Nicky glides into the front row, and Renee slips in next to him. She closes her eyes and does a quick prayer in her head, giving thanks for the trip, their safety, her friends. She's about to ask for forgiveness when she feels a tug at her hair. Renee opens one eye, then the other, and smiles at the little girl standing next to her.

“Your hair has a lot of colours,” the girl says, giving Renee’s hair another tug. She looks about ten or eleven, and wears a too-big pair of rubber boots beneath a large fisherman's sweater.

“It does,” Renee agrees. “Although I'm thinking about cutting it to be a bit more like yours.”

The little girl feels for the bit of pixie cut that pokes out beneath her skullcap and pushes it to the side.

“ _Opal,_ ” a voice groans, running up to her. A boy, around eighteen or nineteen, crouches in front of her, looking exasperated.

“What were the conditions for this trip? What did I tell you _not_ to do?”

The girl, Opal, tilts her head in thought and begins listing things off. “No screeching, no biting, no kicking, no talking to strangers, no showing people my-”

“Okay, okay,” he says, waving his hands. He points to the back of the church, where another boy is admiring the windows. “Look, go stand with Adam. We’ll talk about this later.”

Opal eyes Renee one more time, before galloping in the direction of the boy by the window, and then around him in circles.

“I'm sorry about that,” the boy next to her apologises, dragging a hand over his face. “She doesn't get out much.”

“It's alright,” Renee says. “Please, join us.”

She taps Nicky on the shoulder and makes a flapping motion with her hand. He scuffles to the right, and Renee moves to make space for the boy to sit.

“Uh, thanks,” he says, running a hand over his shaved head. He points at himself. “Ronan.”

“Nice to meet you Ronan,” she smiles. “I'm Renee.”

Ronan sits down next to them and closes his eyes. Renee doesn't mean to stare, but she's naturally curious, and the tattoo snaking up his neck is begging for a closer look. After a few seconds, Ronan’s eyes flicker open.

“You got a problem?” he asks, raising an eyebrow.

He's wearing a leather jacket and a pissed-off expression, and to someone who hasn't seen a hundred Ronans in their lifetime, he probably looks pretty intimidating.

“I like your tattoo,” she says simply.

“Oh,” Ronan says. “I got it to piss off my brother.”

Renee smiles and points at something behind him. “I think your boyfriend wants to get out of here.”

Behind him, Opal is tugging mercilessly at the other boy’s pant leg, nibbling at the jean material and whining “I want _Kerah_.” The boy stares back at Ronan with a helpless expression on his face.

Ronan rolls his eyes. “Some fucking vacation this is. I knew I shouldn't have brought her.”

He turns back to Renee, furrowing his brows. “How did you know that Adam’s my boyfriend?”

“He hasn't taken his eyes off of you since you came over here.”

He grins at that, a strange, shark-like smile.

“Nicky,” Renee says softly. “Are you ready to go?”

Nicky crosses himself quickly and then opens his eyes.

“ _H_ _ot,_ ” he says, giving Ronan a once-over.

“What?” Ronan asks.

“Hey,” Nicky corrects, and then to Renee, “aren't you going to introduce me to your friend?”

“Nicky, this is Ronan,” she says. She glances over to where Opal has begun nibbling at the leg of a bench. “And that’s his boyfriend, Adam.”

“Knew it,” Nicky grins. “And what is _that_?”

“ _That_ is my cousin, Opal,” Ronan says defensively. Nicky raises his hands in mock surrender. _Sorry_ , he mouths, not looking very sorry at all.

Ronan scowls, climbing out of his seat. Renee and Nicky follow him to the entrance, Nicky sending pointed looks at Renee as Opal gallops toward them.

“ _Kerah!"_

Adam trails behind her, making a beeline for the door.

“Gansey text you yet?” he asks in what Renee recognises as a Virginian accent.

Ronan pulls an expensive looking smartphone from his back pocket, scrolls once, and then puts it back.

“Nah,” he says, trying to free his leg from Opal’s clutch. He jerks a thumb behind him at the two foxes.

“Renee and Nicky,” he says. “Fellow Americans in the coloniser’s country.”

“I know you guys,” Adam says, faint recognition creeping in his features. “You play exy, right? For PSU?”

“That's us,” Nicky confirms with a grin. “We’re about to head off to practice for tonight’s big game, actually. It's going to be huge. “ _Game for the Nation_ ” is what they're calling it - celebs versus the professionals. Hint: we are the professionals.”

“It's a charity event to raise money for LGBT youth shelters,” Renee explains. “You guys should totally come - I've got some spare tickets.”

“Hold that thought,” Ronan says, retrieving his buzzing phone. He furrows his brows at the message. “Hey, you guys wouldn't happen to be heading over to London Stadium by any chance, right?”

“Yeah,” Nicky chirps. “That's exactly where we're going.”

“Gansey texted,” Ronan says to Adam. “Says we have to meet at the stadium.”

“Weird. Do you think it's got anything to do with the game?” Adam asks.

“It's Gansey,” Ronan says, like that's enough of an explanation. “He could want us to explore an underground tunnel _beneath_ the stadium.”

“Fair point.”

As they're leaving the church, Adam Googles the nearest bus stops in the area. Andrew and Neil are still outside, both of them huddled inside of Andrew’s coat over a burning cigarette.

“I thought you weren't cold,” Nicky teases.

“I'm _not,_ ” Neil says, looking at Andrew pointedly.

Andrew takes a long drag and shrugs.

“Andrew, Neil,” Renee introduces. “This is Ronan, Adam and Opal. They're headed where we are.”

Neil’s gaze flickers to Adam, and his face immediately pales above the orange flame of Andrew’s lighter.

“ _C_ _hris_?” Adam asks at the same time that Ronan says, “You look really familiar.”

Neil stiffens. “It's Neil, actually. But yeah, I was Chris at some point.”

Andrew inches a step forward, subconsciously letting his protective streak take over.

“You're Hayley’s son, right?” Adam asks. “You lived in the trailer next to me for a while.”

“It was six months,” Neil mumbles, not bothering to correct Adam with his mother’s real name.

“I haven't seen you in forever, man. Hey, what happened to your-”

Adam moves to get a closer look at Neil, but Andrew is faster and shoves him back, hard.

“Get away from him.”

Ronan is there in an instant, gripping the front of Andrew’s sweater.

“What's your fucking problem?” he growls.

Despite being the shorter of two, Andrew stares Ronan down. Ronan is flaming, his mouth curled into a snarl, whereas Andrew just looks bored. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, and then blows a puff of smoke into Ronan’s face.

“Do that again,” Ronan warns. “Do it a-fucking-gain, I dare you.”

“Ronan,” Adam breathes, “just leave it.”

It's only now that Ronan becomes acutely aware of the tip of the knife that's being pressed against his abdomen.

“Drew,” Neil murmurs quietly, trying to catch Andrew’s attention. “Drew, I’m fine.”

“There you are,” a voice calls from behind them. Renee looks down to the street, where a limousine is parked outside the church. A boy around Ronan’s age has his head peaked out the window, a smile plastered on his face.

“And I see you're all acquainted already - perfect! Although, I am going to need you to stop pointing your knife at my friend.”

“Knife? What are you-” Allison’s face appears next to the boy’s, and she immediately groans. She turns her head away from the window and says something to the passengers inside of the car that Renee only hears in fragments.

“The Monster can't cross international waters without physically harassing someone… when will we...yeah, I'll tell them…”

Allison’s head reappears. “Hey Neil! Kevin says to haul Andrew’s ass into this car.”

Andrew, with his eyes still pinned on Ronan’s, slowly lowers the knife. Ronan glares at him for a moment, and then turns to face the boy in the car.

“What is this, Gansey?”

“Just get in, Ronan, and do try to be civil. We can't keep the Prince of England waiting.”

-

“You have nothing to worry about,” Alex promises his boyfriend. “It’s just a sport. How hard can it be?”

Henry paces up and down the court, wringing his hands nervously.

“I know, it’s just that there’s so much that could go wrong. What if I forget the rules? Or accidentally score for the wrong team? I’ve done that before, Alex. There’s a reason why I only play polo!”

“Henry.”

“And what if no one shows up? Exy is a fairly new sport, after all. When Phillip told my grandmother about tonight, she didn’t even know what exy _was._ And what if-”

“ _Baby_.”

Henry stops pacing, his face flushing with pink, and Alex’s heart swells. It’s still hard to believe the effect he has on Henry after a year of dating. It seems crazy that he should get to have something this _good,_ that Henry is still his, even after the storm. Alex walks over to Henry and places a hand on his cheek.

“There’s just so much riding on tonight going well. There are kids out there who are counting on this to happen. They need this, Alex.”

Henry’s eyes - those big, beautiful blue eyes that Alex can’t believe are looking at him - are wide and pensive. Alex kisses him softly.

“It’s going to go great,” he promises. “And if the whole thing flops, I’ll just win everyone over with my good looks and charming personality. One donation equals one night with the hottest FSOTUS there ever was.”

Henry laughs, and the sound warms Alex’s chest.

“And who could say no to that?” Henry agrees.

“Certainly not you. Also,” Alex says, raking in Henry’s royal blue exy uniform, “you look hot.”

Henry raises his brows. “Do you have a thing for exy players, love?”

“Just one.”

Alex pulls him in for another kiss, but they’re soon interrupted by the incoming noise of vibrant chatter.

“Crusty-ass piece of shit,” Alex hears someone shout.

“I’m Aaron,” another voice argues.

“So?” the first voice replies cockily. “It’s still the same ass.”

The Palmetto State Foxes rock up to the court all geared up and ready to go. Alex recognises some of them (Neil, because of his hilarious interviews, for sure) from his dad’s TV screen. Some of the members are dressed normally, and Alex assumes they’ve just tagged along for the ride.

“Good afternoon,” Henry greets politely, jutting his chin out in the way that Alex knows means business.

“Hey,” Alex says.

The group goes silent as they notice Alex and Henry’s presence on the court.

“Oh my god,” a tall Mexican boy gasps. “Do we bow? I feel like we should be bowing right now.”

“Of course we should bow,” a blonde girl hisses. “Where are we, America?”

Alex tries to stifle a laugh, and Henry jabs him in the side in response.

“That won’t be necessary,” Henry says. “And just Henry is fine, no need to bother with all that His Royal Highness nonsense. I’m sure you’ve seen my boyfriend Alex, the First Son of the United States.”

His ears tinge with pink, and Alex smiles with satisfaction knowing that their relationship has just as much as an effect on Henry as it does on him.

“You are all to address me as His Royal Highness Sir Sexy Americano,” Alex says seriously.

The blonde laughs, and Alex shoots her a glare.

“I wasn’t kidding.”

She rushes to apologise, but Alex stops her with a bark of laughter. “Of course I’m kidding. Ya’ll need to lighten up, for real.”

Everyone starts laughing, and Henry gives Alex’s hand a grateful squeeze for lightening the mood.

“Danielle Wilds, captain of the Palmetto State Foxes. It’s a pleasure to be here,” the exy captain greets, extending her hand. Henry shakes first, then Alex.

“It’s a pleasure to have you,” Henry replies.

“This is my team,” she says, pointing people out. “Kevin, Andrew, Neil, Aaron - no, you’re not seeing double, they are twins - Matt, Nicky, Renee and Allison. And this is - well, I’m not really sure who these people are, if I’m being honest.”

“Richard Gansey III,” one of the boys says, shaking their hands. His grip is firm and well rehearsed, and it’s obvious to Alex (who’s spent hours of lessons learning by-the-book dinner etiquette) that he comes from money. “But just Gansey will do. Allison - who is actually a dear family friend of mine - and I bumped into each other at the local Starbucks, of all places. She invited us to tag along for the game, so I hope you don’t mind the intrusion. My group and I hail from Virginia, but we’re actually in the country visiting an old friend of ours. Perhaps you’ve heard of him - does the name Roger Malory ring any bells?”

Alex shakes his head no, but Henry perks up in excitement. It’s so precious that Alex thinks he might die.

“He’s only a bloody genius!” Henry enthuses. “He was always my father’s name of choice for events’ guest lists. We’ve discussed his findings ad nauseum. Say, have you ever heard of something called a ley line?”

Gansey smiles at him then, a perfectly white-toothed grin. “Something tells me that we’re going to be great friends.”

“Great,” Alex huffs. “Just whisk my lover away then, why don’t you? You do realise that he’ll never shut up, right? He could go on about this stuff for days.”

“That makes two of them,” the boy in the leather jacket whispers beneath his breath.

“Oh, you love it,” Henry smirks. “Don’t lie.”

“You’re right, I do love it,” Alex says fondly.

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me stealing your prince,” Gansey says. “I’m taken. Speaking of, where is Jane?”

He looks around, raising his brows at the group, who just shrug in response.

“Up here!” a female voice calls out. Alex looks up to see three girls waving from the stands.

“Jane, Darling, what are you doing up there?”

“I’m making bank, baby!” the girl in the middle shouts, throwing her hands in the air. “June says she wants to do a segment on my sustainable fashion line for Vogue!”

“That’s wonderful! Who’s June?”

“Me!” June shouts, pointing at herself. “I’m June!”

“Nora,” Nora yells, giving Gansey a thumbs-up.

“That’s my sister - June, not the pretty one - and my best friend,” Alex explains. “They’re gonna be playing with us tonight. Although, they really do not wanna practice. Neither do the other members on our team.”

One of the taller exy players - Kevin, Alex remembers - steps forward.

“It’s essential that for a good performance, all players learn to cooperate with each other on a court,” he explains.

“I’m really sorry, man. They’re celebrities. They just said that they didn't want to come and started leaving us on ‘read’. I didn’t think that they could do that, since I’m the First Son and he’s, like, the Prince of England, but celebs be crazy.”

Kevin breathes in, once, twice and pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Well, _we’d_ like to practice. It’s why we’re here.”

“For the record,” Nicky pipes in. “None of us want to practice. It’s just him. And maybe Neil.”

“We could fill in during the practice,” Jane suggests, hopping down from the stands, arm-in-arm with Nora and June.

“We’ve replaced you with Blue,” Nora says seriously. Alex flips her off.

“Is that your nickname?” Henry asks.

“Nope,” Blue replies, offering no further insight. Kevin claps his hands together in an attempt to get everyone’s attention.

“You can all play exy?” he asks hopefully.

“No,” the leather-clad boy replies. “But neither can those celebrities.”

Once the players (including Nora and June, because Blue somehow convinced them to join in) are all geared up, they head out onto the court. Kevin relays some basic rules for the sport, which ends up taking over an hour. But, by the time the practice game starts, everyone is eager and jittery.

To put it simply, Alex’s team sucks. Blue cannot run to save her life, Adam tries to avoid the ball at all costs, and Gansey is far more interested in the mechanics of the game than actually playing. Nora and June… are trying, at least. Ronan, however, isn’t half as bad, but for some reason can’t seem to keep all of his pent-up teenage aggression off the court. Alex finds that he himself is actually not as bad at the sport than he thought he would be, and that Henry is. That doesn’t mean that he doesn’t enjoy watching Henry run, because he really could watch those legs go on forever…

“Alex!” a voice shouts.

He feels a body slam into him, and suddenly he’s in the air, bouncing off the plexiglass.

“ _Shit,_ ” he groans, after hitting the ground.

“Ronan!” Blue yells. “I can’t believe you just did that.”

Both teams crowd around him, and he blearily looks up at them. Henry looks like he’s going to be visibly sick, his eyes thick with worry.

“‘ _M okay, baby_ ,” Alex mumbles halfheartedly, his lids fluttering shut.

“What just happened here?” Wymack, the foxes’ coach, barks from the entrance. He jogs over to the group, pushing aside members of his team to get a closer look.

Allison gulped. “I think Dick’s friend just killed the First Son of the United States.”


	2. Part Two

When Alex comes to, he’s surrounded by the heads of his friends, a professional NCAA exy team and a group of ragtag teenagers. 

“Hello, love,” he hears Henry’s voice next to him say. “How are you feeling?”

Alex reaches for the back of his head and winces at the contact.

“Like the bald kid just slammed me into plexiglass,” he mutters.

Ronan crosses his arms, looking sheepish. “Look man - er, Royal Highness, Your Presidency, whatever - I’m really sorry about everything. I didn’t mean to hit you.”

“It’s cool, accidents happen. Besides, it’s not really your fault. I was kinda, uh, distracted,” he says, hoping that his dark complexion disguises the flush spreading over his cheeks.

June raises an eyebrow. “By what?”

Alex tries not to look at Henry. 

He looks at Henry.

“You know,” Nora says, eyeing Henry’s deep blush. “I’d totally make fun of you for that, except I can sorta relate.”

“What?” Alex, Henry and June ask in unison.

“Hey, I can appreciate a man in shorts. Even one as pasty as Henry.”

“Thanks?” Henry says awkwardly.

Alex is about to try and unpack this when a tall man in a doctor's uniform pushes open the door. He’s got a hospital room to himself - one of the perks of dating the Prince of England, he guesses, and the group disperses when the man enters to give him space by the bed.

“Ah, so you’re finally awake,” the man says in a posh, British accent. “My name is Dr Hawthorne. How are you feeling?”

“Fine,” Alex replies, and for the most part he is. He just really wants to get out of the hospital. “How soon can I be released?”

Dr Hawthorne scans over the papers attached to his clipboard. “Well, as you’ve only sustained very minor injuries, you could be discharged within the hour, if you’d like.”

“Yeah, that sounds great. We should probably get back before the press finds out.”

“Wait,” Nora interrupts. “Was I, like, not supposed to tweet about this? Because I did. Tweet about this.”

Henry shakes his head. “Your insatiable desire for chaos will never cease to amaze me.”

“What can I say? It’s my brand.”

Alex sinks into his pillow. “I can see the headlines now. ‘ _First Son of the United States Completely Embarasses Himself in Front of a World Famous Exy Team', ‘FSOTUS Alex Claremont-Diaz Smashes Skull While Staring at the Prince of England’s Ass._ ”

“Hey, you didn’t completely embarrass yourself in front of us!” Nicky replies, looking to the other Foxes for confirmation.

“Of course not,” Allison agrees. “You did come pretty close, though.”

“Listen, I’m just going to cut to the chase here,” Kevin says to Dr Hawthorne. “Can he play tonight or not?”

Dr Hawthorne shrugs. “I suppose that’s up to Mr Claremont-Diaz.”

“I’ll play,” Alex says, looking reassuringly at Henry. “This is too important to skip out on.”

“Great!” Kevin exclaims, clapping his hands together. “So we can all go back to the court and - wait, where are Neil and Andrew?”

Dan sighs and crosses her arms. “Wymack sent them to do press duty.”

“ ** _WHAT?!?_** ” All the team members shout at once. 

Hawthorne presses his fingers to his temples. “Please remember that this is a hospital.”

“Are you joking?” Matt asks, ignoring Hawthorne’s request.

“They were the only ones that didn’t want to come with us,” Dan explains. “They both hate hospitals. Since we’re all over here, Wymack had no choice but to send them to handle all of the interviews we had scheduled.”

“This cannot be happening,” Nicky says dramatically, hiding his face in his hands.

“What’s so bad about letting them handle the press?” Gansey asks innocently.

Blue snorts. “You haven’t seen all the Youtube compilations? They’re hilarious.”

June immediately starts cracking up. “Oh my god - the best one is the one where Neil roasts that Riko guy and then the editor starts playing Daddy Issues by The Neighbourhood.”

“' _Neil Josten Destroying Riko Moriyama for Seven Minutes Straight_ ’?” Alex asks.

“No, the other one.”

“‘ _Neil Exposing Everyone’s Daddy Issues for Three Minutes Gay_ ’?” Renee guesses.

“Uh, close, I think. But no.”

“‘ _Neil Josten Topping Bottoms for Two Full Hours_ ’?” Dr Hawthorne suggests.

June snaps her fingers. “That’s the one.”

“We have to stop this,” Kevin announces. 

“Too late,” Dan says, shaking her head. “It’s already five-thirty. They’re probably on their way back to the hotel by now.”

The team collectively groans, with some snickers from The White House Trio, but Henry looks unfazed.

“Today has been stressful enough,” he says. “We need to do something to take the edge off before the game.”

“Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor," Alex fake-gasps. "Are you proposing what I think you are?"

"Is there enough time?" June asks.

"We only have to be at the court at seven. There's plenty of time," Henry answers. 

"But the practice-" Kevin starts.

"Forget that," Allison interrupts. "I want to see what the royals do when nobody's watching."

-

"We are _not_ singing that," Annabeth Chase declares, giving her boyfriend a pointed look.

"What's wrong with Fall Out Boy?" Percy Jackson asks defensively.

"Everything," Annabeth replies distastefully. "If I'm going to be caught singing in a karaoke bar, I need to at least show that I have taste."

She scans through the list of songs before landing on something by Matchbox Twenty.

"This one," she says decisively. 

Percy raises an eyebrow. "Your definition of 'good taste' is Matchbox Twenty?"

"Just shut up, Seaweed Brain."

As they climb up the stage, a crowd of maybe twenty people enters the bar. Percy groans. This should be fun.

The music starts blaring from somewhere behind them, and he watches as the lyrics slide on screen.

" _I'm waking up at the start of the end of the world_ …" He starts, awkwardly trying to keep up with the beat. " _But it's feeling just like every other morning before, now I wonder what my life is gonna mean if it's gone_."

Well, that's relatable.

" _The cars are moving like a half a mile an hour and I started staring at the passengers who're waving goodbye, can you tell me what was ever really special about me all this time?_ " Annabeth sings into her mic, and Percy is almost surprised by how good she sounds. He should've known that she would be a good singer - there's really nothing that Annabeth can't do.

" _But I believe the world is burning to the ground_ ," they sing together. " _Oh well, I guess we're gonna find out, let's see how far we've come, let's see how far we've come._ "

They stumble their way through the rest of the song, and when they reach the final line they're laughing and sweating. The bar erupts into applause, and they earn several whoops and cheers from the larger group at the back. Annabeth smirks at him, and together they make their way offstage arm in arm. 

"That was amazing!" one of the girls exclaims. "You guys make a really cute couple."

"We know," Annabeth grins. "I'm Annabeth, and this is my boyfriend Percy."

"Hey," he greets. 

The group starts introducing themselves, but he struggles to pay attention after the second person. He looks to Annabeth for help, but finds her mouth hanging open in shock.

"Oh my gods! You're Prince Henry George Edward James Fox-Mountchristen-Windsor."

One of the girls laughs and bumps Henry in the shoulder. "You know, if I had a nickel for every time someone called you that today… well, I'd only have two nickels, but it's weird that it happened twice, right?"

Henry smiles regally, extending his hand. "Yes, that's me."

"Wait," someone who Percy thinks might be called Matt says. "Did you just say 'gods'? Like, plural?"

"It's wonderful to meet you," Annabeth continues, ignoring his question to shake Henry's hand. To Percy, she says, "This is the Prince of England, and this is the First Son and Daughter of the United States."

"Uh, cool," he says dumbly. 

"You have such a beautiful country. Percy and I are actually here for the first time."

"I'm glad you decided to visit London," Henry says with a smile. "Please, join us."

"It's not like there are already twenty people here or anything," a man grumbles.

A blonde girl throws a french fry at him. "Don't worry about Kevin, he's just acting pissy because he misses exy."

"You guys play exy?" Percy asks, sliding into a seat at one of the tables.

"Yeah," the blonde girl - Allison, he remembers - replies. "Ever heard of the PSU foxes?"

Annabeth nods. "Don't you guys have a game tonight?"

"Yes," Kevin says pointedly. "We _do_."

"Well, good luck. We'd love to come watch, but unfortunately our flight is leaving later today. Speaking of which…" she says, turning to Percy. "You ready to go back to the hotel?"

"Yeah," he replies, standing up. "It was great meeting you guys, though. Good luck tonight."

The group replies with a chorus of goodbyes, and then they're out the door and onto the streets, which are surprisingly peaceful.

"Can you believe we just met the Prince of England? And the First Son and Daughter?" Annabeth gushes. She stops suddenly, her hand flying to her forehead. "Gods, I'm such an idiot! I should've asked Henry about Buckingham Palace. Is there enough time to go back?"

Percy shrugs. "Well, if you want to-"

" _Percccccy_ _Jackssssss_ on," a voice behind him hisses.

"Seriously?" Percy groans. "On our vacation?"

They turn to see two reptilian-looking women with snake tails for legs. _Dracaena,_ Percy thinks. _Why does it always have to be Dracaena?_

" _I've heard ssssso many terrible thingssss_ ," one of the Dracaena hisses.

"Wait," Percy says. "Why do they have British accents?"

Annabeth rolls her eyes. "We _are_ in London, Seaweed Brain."

"Yeah, but like, it sounds really weird. How am I supposed to fight an old British woman?"

"She has snakes for feet! And she wants to kill you!"

" _Enough_ _chatter_ , _mortalssss_ ," the other Dracaena says, her forked tongue slithering between her lips.

" _Wait_ ," the first Dracaena interrupts. " _What'ssss that ssssmell?_ "

They sniff the air and turn around, their tails flickering from side to side. Percy reaches for his sword, but Annabeth puts out an arm to stop him.

"Wait," she says, jerking her chin in the direction of the Dracaena's gaze. Percy follows her line of sight and sees two teenage guys from the group leaving the karaoke bar.

"Shit," he hears one of them say. His head is shaved, and he sports a black leather jacket. He steps in front of the other boy protectively. "I must've dreamt one of these last night without knowing."

" _Ronan Lynch_ ," the Dracaena hisses. " _We know of your kind_."

"Demigod?" Percy asks.

"Looks like it," Annabeth replies. She slips her Yankee cap from her back pocket and nods. _Now_.

She disappears from view, and Percy pulls Riptide - still in pen form - out of his pocket. He starts toward them and catches the boy's eye.

"Get out of here," Ronan orders. "Just forget whatever you think you saw today. You'll be safer that way."

Percy raises his brows. "Excuse me?"

" _Mmmm_ ," the second Dracaena hums. " _Ssso much fresh blood to be ssspilled_."

"Ronan," the other boy frowns. "Those are just two women."

"What? Adam, look at their tails."

"Tails?"

"You'd better get him inside," Percy interrupts. "Dracaena don't have a lot of patience for mortals."

"Mortals?" Ronan asks, furrowing his brows. "What are you-"

" _Gaaah_!" one of the Dracaena yells, before exploding into a pile of golden dust.

" _Where isss she_?" The other hisses, baring her fangs. " _Where isss the child of Athena?_ "

"Well, wouldn't you like to know?" Annabeth asks, materialising next to her. Before the Dracaena can react, Annabeth slices her throat with her blade, and she crumbles to the floor in tiny pieces.

"Sure, Percy. Just leave me to kill them alone, why don't you?"

"What did you do?" the other boy, Adam, yells. "You just killed two innocent women!"

"Adam," Ronan says, shaking his head. "Those weren't women. They were monsters from my dreams."

Percy gives Annabeth a look. _Only demigods dream about monsters._

"Are you guys…" Ronan falters, hesitant to continue. "Dreamers?"

"Say what now?" Percy asks, furrowing his brows in confusion.

"We're demigods," Annabeth explains.

"Demigods?" Adam asks. "What do you mean by-"

He stops, his mouth hanging open in shock. Annabeth turns slowly, dagger in hand. 

Percy groans, still facing the bar. "Who is it this time?"

"Wrong question," Annabeth huffs. "It's not a 'who', more like 'how many'."

"How many, Wise Girl?"

"Turn around."

He turns around.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thanks for reading! next part will be the final part, but depending on how long it is i may write an epilogue.
> 
> (p.s. i am aware that the karaoke scene is cringey but you know what this is my fic and i can do what i want. LET ME LIVE)


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